


for me, it's you

by volantium



Series: first prize bravery 'verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Depression, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, References to Suicide, Slice of Life, Twitter AU, associate professor/head of r&d peter, ceo of stark industries harley, harley keener:, me: ma'am that's my emotional support fictional gay disaster, no one:, references to alcoholism, the inherent existentialism of being a millennial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volantium/pseuds/volantium
Summary: Harley kisses Peter on a rainy Sunday afternoon, and the world is never the same.The year between getting together & going public, set in the first prize bravery ‘verse.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: first prize bravery 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914016
Comments: 15
Kudos: 180





	for me, it's you

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning, this'll make more sense if you've read the first fic in the series, first prize bravery

Harley kisses Peter on a rainy Sunday afternoon, and the world is never the same.

It’s almost like fate, how they seem to slot together like two pieces of a puzzle. Harley hadn’t known what it would be like – for all that he daydreamed of perhaps, one day, distantly, being more than just a friend to Peter – but it wasn’t this.

 _This_ is breakfast together in bed, half-awake, pressed from shoulder to ankle and spilling crumbs over the sheets but it’s okay because they can change them, together. _This_ is Harley with his nose buried in a coffee cup, watching Peter across from him in the mid-afternoon sun type away at his laptop, sitting where they are in Peter’s apartment in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York skyline behind him.

 _This_ is Harley reading his well-loved translation of The Aeneid with Peter’s head in his lap, dozing to the sound of Harley’s soft, barely-there-after-eight-years-in-the-city accent as he reads aloud the perils Aeneas faces during his trip to the underworld – history, often overlooked and undervalued, has always had a special place in Harley’s heart, even throughout studying at MIT and sharing that with Peter is a gift in and of itself, the way Peter looks at him when he truly gets going on some obscure political figure from the eighth century BCE.

 _This_ is kissing Peter to shut him up, when he starts ranting about how of his students missed the mark entirely on their essay and Harley can’t think past how fucking _good_ his boyfriend looks, with his sleeves rolled up like that and wearing his glasses for once instead of contacts, especially when his curls fall across his face just so.

 _This_ is Peter, gently wiping away the tears that track down Harley’s cheeks after finding him at two in the morning staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, dark pools of bruised skin under his glistening blue eyes, there but not really there at all, too caught up in his own head to even notice when Peter pulls him back to bed, settling Harley’s head against his shoulder, hand splayed against his ribs just to make sure he’s breathing.

 _This_ is them taking the world by storm; Stark Industries has never been so successful, not even in the supposed golden years under Howard Stark. Tony and Pepper have taken a back seat, and even though Harley thinks – knows – they’ll never fully leave the company, at least, they have _time_ now, as Harley and Peter take the company they moulded further than anyone thought two twenty-somethings could.

 _This_ is falling in love with Peter, easier than breathing. Over and over and over again.

* * *

Harley, probably too often and not enough at all according to his therapist, thinks about life in hindsight.

It helps, dissecting his own brain, understanding just why he reacted the way he did, or what specific thing was the catalyst for tipping him over the edge into another depressive episode. It helps, because Harley sometimes still gets tangled up in the whiplash that is growing up in a small Southern town full of homophobes, half a parent, a sister who hated him, and an imagination that runs a mile a minute and then one day just – not.

But it’s still – traumatic – in a way that Harley can recognise with intimacy, that makes him think back to the late night-early morning benders that coloured much of his year of being twenty-two, absolutely sloshed to high hell at four in the morning or four in the afternoon, partying and partying and partying until he could barely remember his own name, drinking just to _forget._

The thing is, Harley was going through the inherent existentialism that is being in his twenties and having no idea what he should be doing. Sure, his future is already predetermined but it’s not like he knows how to be a fucking _chief executive officer_ either, which is something he started balking at around the same time, even though that was less to do with the responsibility and more to do with the thought of disappointing Pepper and Tony. 

And even though Harley’s twenty-five now, mellowed and less violent than the sixteen year old him that finally snapped with that bone-deep itch to leave the South, less unsure of himself than he was three years ago even – he still doesn’t know what he’s doing, really.

But, in hindsight, things are better now, and it’s because of Peter. Better and worse, he supposes, because even when they were just friends they leant on each other probably more than what was healthy, which Harley justifies with exceptional circumstances - thrown in together as the heirs to Stark Industries – but now, now it’s probably boarding into a level of co-dependency that Harley really _should_ pull back from, but how can he, when he’s so spaced he doesn’t even realise he’s woken up from that evening’s nightmare until Peter’s pulling him back to bed?

Harley doesn’t want to think about it.

* * *

woke up gay again tf **@keener  
**some of y’all never had your rebellious teenage phase at 22 because you grew up in the closet and hating yourself and it shows  
  
Tony Stark **@IRONMAN  
****@keener** What do you mean “had,” you’re still having it three years later?  
  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
****@IRONMAN** have you ever considered just not calling me out, old man  
  
norah **@miasma  
****@keener** “some of y’all” you can take the boy out of the south but you can’t take the south out of the boy  
  
Susan **@Susan_Godsworth  
****@miasma @keener** THAT’S the part you chose to focus on?

* * *

  
  
Once their friends know, Harley seems to breathe easier. Not that Peter is some dirty little secret – no, never – but that he can finally touch him without holding back is a different kind of comfort, can call him 'baby' without second guessing himself, can do all those things that couples do.

They have dinner with Tony and Pepper, three months in, a week after Tony finds them cuddled up on the couch in the mid-afternoon sun, Peter wearing Harley’s Stark Industries’ hoodie, the one with his last name in block letters on the back that sends a thrill of possessive selfishness down his spine whenever he sees it across Peter’s shoulders.

And even though Pepper and Tony know Peter just as well as they know Harley, Harley walks into their penthouse and introduces Peter as his boyfriend, as if they’re all meeting for the first time.

Pepper seems to be the only one in his corner, Peter and Tony looking at him equally confused and amused when she replies, “Oh, so you’re the boy my son hasn’t stopped talking about?”

And even though it’s been nearly ten years since he more or less turned up out of the blue, a phone call his single warning, it still shocks him, the ease with which Tony and Pepper accepted him into their lives. As if it was no small feat, as if it wasn’t the spanner in the works Harley is still convinced that it was. And even though Pepper’s been calling him _son_ for the better part of that ten years it still shocks him – that they love him enough to think of him as such.

Because Harley, jaded and bitter in that way only seventeen year olds are, had spilled his guts four months after leaving Tennessee – had hashed over his abandonment issues and the way his mother could barely look at him, that the absence in her gaze whenever she did cut Harley more than his father leaving for scratches and never coming back. He remembers crying into Pepper’s shoulder, ruining her suit something awful, but he remembers a gentle hand carding through his messy hair, and Tony’s quiet voice full of conviction and reassurance.

Harley knows he was a mess then – still kind of is, truth be told, some days barely holding it together at all – but he’s _their_ mess now, _their_ kid, and he loves them so much it hurts.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter replies wirily. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Harley throws his head back, barking a laugh, wondering why he was even stressed about this at all. Dinner is a breeze.

* * *

STARK INDUSTRIES 🔁  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
**a very big thank you to peter’s intro class for letting me indulge and spiral about engineering for two hours 📸 **@peterparker  
**[Image: Harley Keener, grinning wide, looking decidedly dressed down in a Stark Industries hoodie and ripped jeans, standing in front of a packed NYU lecture theatre.]  
  
Dr Parker, PhD **@peterparker  
****@keener** He says “spiral” as if he hasn’t given an entire guest lecture himself on biomechanics at MIT.  
  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) **@MIT  
****@peterparker @keener** Think you can convince him to come back, doc?  
  
Dr Parker, PhD **@peterparker  
****@MIT @keener** Just ply him with free coffee and he’s all yours.  
  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
****@peterparker @MIT** look… that’ll work tbh

* * *

The first time Harley found himself in Peter’s office, he decided then and there it wouldn’t be the last.

It’s not quite anonymity. There’s really no escaping the fame of being Tony Stark’s kid or the recently invested CEO of Stark Industries – but there’s a distinct lack of awareness, less of a buzz following his every footstep that Harley craves each time he’s outside of the Tower. But here, sitting on the other side of the dark wood desk that takes up the majority of Peter’s office, Harley can pretend he’s not a unwarrantedly famous business man. 

Harley finds himself at NYU more days than not lately. Peter, his kind and most generous boyfriend, is substituting for his old first year biochemistry professor for half a semester. Which means less time spent at the Tower and more down in the Village, and consequently so does Harley.

“I’ve got half an hour before class,” Peter’s quiet voice splits the air. “You up for coffee?”

Harley can’t help the grin that spreads across his face, “Always.”

They meander through Washington Square Park, past the pigeon man, making their way to their favourite café in the whole city – a semi-popular hole in the wall that Peter found on his first day of teaching. It’s not so popular that the staff don’t _not_ recognise them on site – but it’s one of the few places they’ve been on campus where they’re treated as Peter, the young science professor and his friend Harley, regulars, rather than two celebrities.

“Hey guys,” the barista says. “The usual?”

Harley nods, pulling out his wallet before Peter can even try, “Thanks, darlin’.”

They end up at their usual table against the wall across from the counter. They talk for a while, Harley asking about Peter’s students, fleshing out possible ventures for the company, chatting back and forth nonsensically before Harley, in a fit of daring, hooks his ankle around Peter’s, just to watch his boyfriend flush slightly.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in, glancing once to side to make sure there’s no one who can overhear. “I ever tell you I love you?”

Peter smiles, gorgeous with the red that paints his cheeks, “Often enough.” 

“Just making sure you know.”

Harley winks at Peter over his soy latte, loves the way Peter rolls his eyes, because Harley does this at least once a day, reminds him of his never-ending love for Peter, regardless of whether or not words are involved. 

“Harls,” Peter says, pulling away from him, Harley instantly missing the warmth of their legs pressed together. “I need to go.” 

“Do you mind if I tag along?” Harley asks, not ready to go back to being _Harley Keener, CEO of Stark Industries,_ not ready to leave the comforting presence that is just _is_ Peter beside him.

Harley blames the coffee, when he ends up taking over Peter’s biochemistry class and talking about mechanics without taking a breath. 

* * *

woke up gay again tf 🔁  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) **@MIT  
**The annual Daniel I. C. Wang Lecture on the Frontiers of Biotechnology will be jointly presented by former alumni **@keener** and fellow **@STARK** executive **@peterparker**

* * *

MIT talks to Peter; Peter talks to Harley; Harley talks to MIT and they somehow end up being the first pair to jointly present MIT’s yearly lecture on bioengineering.

Harley would be lying if he said he wasn’t majorly geeking out over it. He’d come to these lectures the entire four years he’d been at MIT without fail, had even dragged Peter and Ned to one in his first year.

It hadn’t really been much of a challenge, trying to figure out what they’d talk about – and it’s that more than anything that quiets Harley’s nerves because he is _good_ at what he does, despite his age, and so is Peter. The fact that they’re getting to talk about Project Resilience is an added bonus. Harley could – has – spoken for hours about the need for accessible cutting edge technology and equitable prosthetics. Does so more after having met Bucky, who’s been invaluable to their research, has become somewhat of a pseudo-uncle to Harley and Peter both after spending hours talking about his arm, which Harley is still finding ways to repay him for.

It’s just gone six, and Harley straightens his suit jacket before taking a look at Peter, who looks nothing short of gorgeous in the burgundy suit he has on, a nice contrast to Harley’s own light grey. They’re standing off the side, hidden in the dark as the Dean makes their introductions. Harley reaches out a head, tangles his fingers with Peter’s in a brief, self-assuring squeeze before letting go and stepping onto the stage.

“Hi everyone, I’m Harley, that’s Peter, and we work for Stark Industries,” Harley says, eliciting laughter from the audience at his superb underselling of their positions. 

“Thank you to MIT for having us,” Peter says, Harley nodding along. “It really is a highlight of both of our careers being able to host this lecture and talk to you about Project Resilience.”

It’s easy, the back and forth, the bouncing off one another, Harley’s particular brand of sarcasm and Peter’s dry wit. They’ve given more talks than Harley can remember. Just another reason why the work so well together.

When Harley launches into the explanation for the origin of Project Resilience – which happened to be Peter, and the fact that Peter’s light sensitivity causes him splitting headaches an awareness of noise that it seems almost inhuman, and how Harley tinkered until three in the morning, that one night, but that’s a secret Harley will take to the grave, God help him – it’s Peter who takes over the more chemical aspects, talks about the brain synapses and nerve endings, Harley rotating in with the occasional engineering comment and the physical wiring behind the connection between the brain and the prosthetic.

Looking at Peter beside him, who’s in the middle of talking about the first prototypes, looking out at the audience – Harley wouldn’t change a single thing.

* * *

Dr Parker, PhD **@peterparker  
**No one:  
Literally no one:  
Harley, in the middle of an important meeting on upcoming SI projects: Peter, do you remember that time we fell down the stairs at your aunt’s place?  
  
grace **@gracejustice  
****@peterparker** sometimes i forget you two are like, actual best friends and not a PR stunt but then one of you posts something like this and –  
  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
****@gracejustice @peterparker** you know what? that’s totally valid

* * *

E! News **@enews  
**Harley Keener spotted shopping at IKEA – moving in with rumoured boyfriend Ashton Trace? bit.ly/45930  
  
Dr Parker, PhD **@peterparker  
**What do you get your best friend as a housewarming gift when they literally run a global tech company and have access to state of the art engineering labs?  
  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
****@peterparker** a new coffee mug after you smashed my favourite one :(  
  
Dr Parker, PhD **@peterparker  
****@keener** Harley that was four years ago.  
  
woke up gay again tf **@keener  
****@peterparker** so? 

* * *

They move into the same apartment, ten months into this thing that’s easier than breathing between them.

Harley is more excited about it than he’s willing to admit – if pressed he’ll say it’s because Peter makes a mean cup of coffee at three in the morning when they have sudden burst of inspiration for their current project that needs to be enacted right that minute – but really, it’s because they’ve been staying at each other’s apartments constantly for the better part of five months now, even despite living in the same building, and Harley is more excited than he’s willing to admit because it means waking up to Peter in _their_ bedroom, in _their_ apartment, newly renovated and no longer just _Harley’s._

It’s some sick twist of fate, that the elevator happens to break down in the middle of the morning. It’s a testament to both of them – how well they know each other, perhaps, or how unphased they are by the luxuries of Stark Tower – that they both agree to just start lugging the boxes filled with bits and pieces of Peter’s computer up the emergency stairwell without even saying anything.

They take a break somewhere around three, Harley pouring them both a glass of water, ice clicking as he sets it down on the coffee table – more storage space than actual coffee table at the moment, piled high with random bits of tech and books waiting to find a home in the bookcase from IKEA that Harley is yet to build.

“Why did we choose your floor?” Peter asks, sprawled sideways on the couch, glass dangling haphazardly from his hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever used the stairs this much before.”

“It’s not like we were expecting the elevator to up and break.”

“But, still.”

“I have the better views.” Harley takes a sip of his water.   
  
Peter gives him a look, “You’re one floor above me, Harley.”

“We could convert your floor into our own lab?”  
  
“What, the whole building full isn’t enough?”

“Peter,” Harley says, tone edging into something like a smug whine, reaching over to take Peter’s glass from him before it tips and spills all over the floor. “I can’t fuck you in those ones.”

It’s not Harley’s fault that they get distracted from moving more boxes when he can’t help but kiss the half curious-half shocked look off Peter’s face.

* * *

Harley’s never claimed to be a genius.

This fact is reinforced when he accidentally-on-purpose proposes to Peter in the middle of having sex, because that absolutely wasn’t how he planned to pop the question.

It’s with that lurking in the back of his mind for the past two weeks that bring them here:

They’re – him, Peter, Pepper, Tony, Ned, MJ – are in the penthouse, Harley taking over Pepper’s kitchen to make dinner for the lot of them. It’s nothing special, just spaghetti carbonara, easy to make in big batches and something Harley can do without having to think too much.

Which is hard, with the velvet box burning a hole in his jacket pocket.

He’s had it for a while. The ring. _The_ ring. Harley had spent a solid month agonizing over what to even get. It had crossed his mind a few times, to actually make it, backwards engineer it out of a block of scrap metal from one of Tony’s old suits for the symbolism, before deciding that that was just a bit too cheesy, despite his self-proclaimed status as a hopeless romantic. He ended up reaching out to a friend of his, Ashton, who he met back in intro to econ at MIT, to commission it. Ashton is a man of many talents, currently dabbling in fashion design but a jeweller first and foremost. The ring ends up exactly how he wants it – nothing ostentatious, just simple, understated, a plain band of polished silver with a single engraving on the inside.

He can hear Peter laughing, even as Harley calls out that the food’s ready, and to think that their family is about to watch him make a fool of himself for a second time isn’t nearly as daunting.

He’s already told Tony _why_ he organised the dinner, couldn’t keep it bottled up for so long without letting _someone_ know. Not that he’s let the cat out of the bag entirely – hasn’t actually told Tony he’s already asked once before, that they’re already technically engaged. Harley can tell Tony thinks he’s getting cold feet, if the looks he keeps shooting him over his wine glass, entirely unsubtle, are anything to go by.

The thing is – Peter’s already said yes, said it in the most exquisite way, the memory burned into Harley’s retinas in vivid technicolour, so _why_ is he nervous all of a sudden? 

Harley swirls the red wine around, watches it whirlpool in the glass, sets it down with more force than intended.

“I do have ulterior motives for asking y’all to dinner,” Harley says after a moment, can see from the corner of his eye the relived sigh Tony gives. “But thank you, nonetheless, for turning up.”

Pepper is the one to ask if everything is okay, and Harley nearly laughs, because everything is _perfect._

“I wanted to do this right,” he says instead, catching Peter’s eye, and Harley can tell the moment that it clicks.

Sure, they might be moving too fast but what’s a year after spending the last nine joined at the hip? Some people are just meant for love, his mother used to say before things fell apart, whether that was romantic love or platonic love or familial love. And Harley’s never claimed to be a genius, but he, Harley thinks, was meant for Peter, in any way that matters.

There’s a stifled gasp when Harley rounds the table and drops to one knee, fishes the engagement ring from his pocket.

“Peter,” he says, taking a deep breath. “You’ve made my life better since you walked into it and I’m so – God, I promised myself I wouldn‘t cry – I’m so thankful that I get to be your friend, let alone your partner. Your kindness and compassion and intelligence floor me in the best of ways – for me, it’s you, baby. You’ve taught me so much, something new everyday, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together, learning with you. I want to meet you for coffee between your lectures and I want to wake up to you in the morning and I want everything, _everything_ to do with you, Peter Parker, every single day if you’ll have me.”

There are unshed tears glimmering in Peter’s honey-gold eyes, but he’s laughing, “Harley, I already said yes.”

Harley cannot look away from Peter, couldn’t even if he tried, but he can hear the startled sounds of their family at that not insignificant revelation.

“Say yes again, anyways,” Harley opens the box to reveal the ring, looking at Peter and thinking _loving you has taught me what bravery is._

Harley’s falling backwards with a lap full of Peter, who snakes his arms around Harley’s shoulders, pressing their foreheads together the ring caught between them. Distantly he can hear the click of a camera. 

“Am I going to have to put the ring on myself, Keener?”

Harley picks it out carefully, the silver glinting softly in the light that spills between their bodies, and Harley runs a thumb across the engraving on the inside, the Roman numerals for the date they first kissed, that rainy Sunday afternoon when the world changed, before taking Peter’s hand and sliding it across his knuckles to sit snugly at the base of his finger.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Harley whispers, even though he knows everyone else can hear him in the silence of the dining room. “I don’t think I can live a life without you by my side.”

It’s too much, really, for him to be saying this in front of the people he sees as his parents, in front of the people Peter sees as his family, and God, there’s blackmail material for _years_ in that single sentence that Harley knows he’ll never hear the end of it from MJ or Ned, but Peter is his _everything_ – Peter is his everything and he’s already said yes once but if it takes Harley waxing poetic to get him to say yes twice then Harley will talk and talk and talk until his throat is raw. 

But Peter just laughs wetly, tips his chin forward until they’re kissing, left hand steady and sure against Harley’s jaw, the ring a cool touchstone against his cheek, and that is answer enough. 

Afterwards, when Harley and Tony are in the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of his cooking, Tony sets the plate he’s drying down and says, “I thought you were chickening out, kid.”

Harley has to snort, “Oh, I could tell. You almost ruined it with your dramatics. Pepper was giving you that look she does when she knows you’re keeping secrets.”

“Ah,” Tony scrubs a hand through his beard. “You already asked him?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

Tony makes a go-on gesture with the tea towel.

“I don’t think you want details,” Harley says, slyly, mouth quirking at the look on Tony’s face. “But I asked before I really meant to, and Peter deserves more than an accidental proposal.”

“Accidental proposal or not, you two are meant to be.”

“Nah,” Harley knows he sounds sheepish, but there’s something about fate that sits low in his gut, tangled up in the hook that draws him back to Peter, something he doesn’t really want to think about. “We wouldn't have met if it weren’t for you.” 

Tony laughs, but there’s a certain finality in his tone when he says, “I knew from the moment you two met that you were both destined for something great. And this last year, watching you two together, I’ve never been happier but – Harley, you and Peter – I think the both of you would’ve ended up here, with or without me.”

And what is Harley meant to do in the face of that, other than wrap his arms around Tony, and hug the only man who’s been like a father to him?

* * *

you can call me michelle **@mj  
**I don’t believe in love but I watched my best friend propose to our other best friend last night and that was really something.  
  
Guy in the Chair **@NedLeeds  
****@mj** I’m framing that picture you took and hanging it in my office

* * *

Harley’s aware that Peter’s in meetings all day – there’s that stakeholder meeting at 2, followed by a cross-department catch up with their Tech team – when he messages him with the thought of finally going public with their relationship.  
  


**sunshine  
**I cannot believe you said all of that  
over TEXT  
15:00  
  
**sunshine  
**I adore you 💘💖💞  
15:00

 **Harley  
**come and adore me in  
person 👉👈🥺  
15:01  
  
**Harley  
**i’m only half kidding but if  
you skip that meeting pep might  
kill you  
15:01

 **sunshine  
**Yeah I love you but there’s no  
way I’m risking Pepper’s wrath,  
sorry babe.  
15:02

Almost everyone at SI knows. it’s probably the worst kept secret in the entire company, and that’s definitely saying something. There’s been more than one occasion where Harley’s forgotten himself, dropped one of the more conspicuous pet names he has for Peter in the middle of a meeting with the research and dev interns Peter oversees as Head, or even talking about his weekend plans with ‘his boyfriend’ that everyone pretends to not know is Peter.

It’s kind of a miracle, how it hasn’t been leaked yet, because lately they’ve been less careful – kind of a mutual agreement that it’s time now, nearly a month and a half into their engagement, and it’s not like Peter’s stopped wearing his ring, either, because Harley’s sees it every morning, has heard more than one rumour about the ring that appeared on Peter's finger one weekend a while ago. 

But, again, everyone who works for Stark Industries has signed some form of non-disclosure, and their legal team is, like everyone else in the company, excellent at what they do.

Harley makes a note to talk to Pepper – who, since handing the reins of CEO to him, has stepped in as head of public relations – to talk to the Times.

There’s a misprint – Pepper’s nickname appearing rather than her actual name, despite the fact that whoever edited it managed to switch out Tony for Anthony. Harley has to laugh though, because if it was to happen, it’d happen to them, and somehow it makes to moment lighter than what it actually is.

It hits the press cycle with the full force of a summer storm, sends Twitter into a meltdown that they watch from the comfort of their couch, FRIDAY refreshing Harley’s feed every two minutes without needing to be prompted, Pepper and Tony hovering in the kitchen.

Harley’s already faced it once – the backlash of coming out nearly two years ago by changing his Twitter name of all things – and if he’s being honest, he isn’t sure how he’d react to the world criticising him _and_ Peter, together.

The support is nearly overwhelming.

Peter shows him the tweet, the one asking why they came out now, and it’s Harley who actually suggest Peter just reply with the screenshots of their conversation from that day – not in part because he wants to world to see Peter’s love for him reflected in the ‘ **h** 💘’ that makes up his contact name, or the way Peter writes ‘I adore you’ that even after a year of hearing it still makes Harley’s stomach _swoop –_ but in part because, well, it’s simple, innocuous, and -

Falling in love with Peter is easier than breathing, and the world is never the same.

**Author's Note:**

> three guesses as to what one of my majors was and the first two don't count ;) i love these boys so much i couldn't not write this after the totally unexpected and amazing feedback i got on first prize bravery - thank you so much!! 
> 
> i have ideas for future fics (namely, the wedding) but it'll be a long ass time until i can write again so pls accept my humble apologies in that regard 
> 
> the idea of project resilience is modelled from [ team unlimbited](https://www.teamunlimbited.org/about) in addition to the whole, Bucky having a metal arm thing
> 
> title is from lo moon's [ for me, it's you](https://youtu.be/D3JicL0mGZU) which is 110% a first prize bravery parkner song 
> 
> drop a comment/request either here on on my tumblr [@volantium](https://volantium.tumblr.com), thank you for reading!!


End file.
